Virgin

by Georgia Le Carre

With tears running down my face, I reach into the medicine cabinet for the high strength pain medication that he has so thoughtfully stocked up for me. After swallowing the tablets, I carefully clean myself up as best I can. There’s only so much I can do though. At least the tears have stopped. Now I just feel cold and empty inside. Like there’s nothing inside my skin. I’m just a shell.

  Whatever made me think that Tyson could get me out of this mess? I must have been mad with lust. With all the money and the connections Tony has Tyson will never be able to save me. Nobody will. I saw it in his eyes today. Time is running out for me. I have to protect Christopher. If anything happens to me he’ll become an orphan.

  The thought of Christopher pulls me out of the spiral I was falling into. I have to see him. I have to remember there’s still something good in my life. I put on my biggest sunglasses and wrap a scarf around my neck and mouth before leaving the apartment Tony forces me to live in. I hate it. I hate the neighborhood and the nosy people. Which is why he loves it, naturally.

  So many eyes on me all at once, watching when he can’t be around. Traitors. They have no idea who he is. None of them do. I’m sure they’ve heard me screaming, but people have a way of ignoring what they don’t want to hear.

  I walk to the phone box and call the number Tyson made me memorize. He picks up on the first ring.

  “Izzy,” he says urgently.

  “I won’t be able to make it tomorrow, or ever again. I’m so sorry. Goodbye, Tyson,” I say woodenly.

  “Izzy!” he shouts as I drop the receiver back into the cradle. I lean my forehead against the cold glass of the phone booth, my mind blank, my heart aching, until I hear a bicycle bell. A kid whizzes past. I can’t think of what I want or need anymore. I have to think of Christopher and Mom. I have to find a way to get us out of this country and fast.

  Mom’s not far away—I would normally walk, but there’s too much pain. A quick taxi ride takes me to her front door. When I reach her house, with its cheerful wallpaper and the smell of fresh-baked chocolate cookies in the air, I almost cry with longing for a life long gone, when I was young and life was sweet. I put my key away and Mom comes into the hallway carrying Christopher.

  “Look who it is! It’s Mummy!” Mom holds Christopher up so I can take him from her, but I wave her off, and sit carefully, slowly. Her face falls.

  “He’s been at it again, hasn’t he?”

  I nod and take off my glasses.

  “Oh, Isabella,” she gasps in horror.

  “It’s okay, Mom. It looks worse than it feels. It’ll heal.” I take the baby from her and sit him on the edge of my lap. I don’t trust Christopher’s waving arms and legs to hold him too close against my bruised body.

  She shakes her head sadly.

  “And how’s my sweet boy? Behaving for Grandma?”

  “Dada,” he says.

  I bite my lip. That is the only word my son will say. Over and over again. Every time I hear it I feel guilty all over again for the mess we are in. If only I had not gone to that bar that night. If only I had not said yes to Tony.

  “He’s an angel, as always,” Mom says as she potters around the kitchen. I hear ice clinking. She’s making me a pack. I shower my boy with kisses all over his pudgy cheeks and the soft, dark hair that covers his head. His clear, blue eyes shine.

  “Dada,” he shrieks excitedly, and laughs uproariously when I tickle him. No matter how bad I feel my spirits always perk up when I have a visit with him.

  I sent him to live with Mom about a month after he was born. It happened when Tony and I got into our first big argument. At that time Tony had only just begun to show his true colors, and I didn’t yet know the extent of his sadistic streak. What I did know is that I had made a mistake. You can’t live with a man you don’t love. During that argument, I made the error of telling him that it was wrong for me to move in with him.

  I had never seen anyone change the way he did. One moment he was standing in front of me having an argument about why I wouldn’t leave Christopher with a babysitter and go out to a party with him.

  Then the next moment he had stormed into Christopher’s room, grabbed him up by his tiny leg, and started swinging him around like he was a rag doll. “If you leaving him is the problem then I’ll just have to smash him against the wall. Problem solved.”

  He was like a mad man. I could not even imagine it was the same man who had promised to take care of me and my baby until his dying day. Because, he said, one day I would wake up and realize that he was the kindest and most loyal man, and I would fall in love with him.

  While Christopher screamed in fear I could only stand there frozen. So completely shocked. I was unable to move, speak, or even think. Until, suddenly, as I looked at my son swinging dangerously in an arc, it came to me in a flash. He was jealous of my son. All I had to do was genuflect. Show total submission. Tell him no one else was more important to me than him.

  I fell to my knees and begged Tony to let my baby go. I told him I would do whatever he wanted. He could do anything he wanted with me. He walked up to me and threw Christopher at me. I lunged forward and caught my tiny infant in my arms. I held him tight and tried to rock him. “Next time,” Tony sneered, “I won’t be so reasonable. Stop him screaming and come to bed. You have work to do.”

  “When are you going to leave that evil monster?” Mom asks, handing me the ice pack and taking Christopher back so I can hold it over my eye.

  “Mom, please. You know what’s happening. You know it’s not that simple.”

  “What I know is he’s going to kill you one day.”

  “Mom, please, don’t. All right? Just don’t. Not today.” Tears fill my eyes again. I thought I couldn’t cry anymore today. I can’t help but think of Tyson, and how happy I was for just a little while yesterday. At least I’ll have that to remember. That little bit of happiness in his arms, the way it was always meant to be. He’s right about that. We fit together perfectly. We are meant to be together. Life is cruel, but I will sort it out one day. One day after I have made my escape and Tony forgets about me I will contact Tyson again. I will introduce him to his son then. He deserves to know, but doing it now will endanger both him and Christopher.

  “If not for yourself,” Mom says, “then for your son. What happens when he has to grow up without you? It’s bad enough you’re afraid to have him live with you now …”

  “Please, just … please stop, Mom.”

  She opens her mouth to say something else, but I interrupt her. “You don’t think I know how terrible this is?” I know it is not her fault. She is trying to help, but my voice is full of the bitterness in my heart. “I spend entire nights staring up at the ceiling, asking myself how I’m ever going to get out of this.” I look at my baby in her arms. He’s angelic, completely oblivious to the pain all around him. I don’t want him to ever lose that innocence.

  I meet her anxious gaze again. “You don’t know how much I miss Christopher every day, Mom. I hate missing out on anything with him, and only being able to visit. I feel like I’ll never get out of this trap. I’ve even considered finding someone who can get us fake passports and just running away with you and Christopher. Somewhere Tony could never find us.”

  Even though I am kept on a very strict ration where I even have to show Tony my supermarket receipts every week, I’ve managed to salt away a bit of money. Not much, but maybe enough for one and a half passports. I was going to wait until I had enough for three passports, but now that things have come to a head, I will borrow what I don’t have from Charlotte or one of my other friends.

  My mom looks at me sadly, but she doesn’t discourage me. She’s willing to take the risk of us going to prison because we broke the law to get away from him.

  Later, back at my clinical, super modern apartment, I put my phone by my bedside. I know Tony will call though, and I know better than to miss his call. I think he gets a sick pleasure out of saying he is sorry and knowing that I have to pretend to a
ccept his apology. Then, I gingerly lie on my back on the bed. I always try to sleep at times like this. There is no pain while I’m asleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Izzy

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qT6XCvDUUsU

  Why Does My Heart Feel So Bad?

  I wake up early the next morning. My whole body is still in agony.

  Groaning with pain, I get out of bed and make it slowly to the bathroom. While I am in there I hear the phone ring so I have to dash back out, hurting myself in my hurry. It’s Tony. He’s all sweetness and light. He tells me he’s taking me out tonight.

  I inform him that I have a black eye.

  He is silent for a moment, then he tells me he’ll get his mates to drop him off after he’s been to the club instead.

  I agree to his plan and try not to allow the revulsion I feel to creep into my voice. After he rings off I sit down slowly on the bed. Oh God. When will this be over? I feel trapped and lost. Were it not for my mom and Christopher I would have walked out the first day he laid a hand on me.

  I stare at a blank wall.

  I already know what will happen tonight. He will come around and want me to have sex with him. While fucking me he will keep banging into my bruises. He’ll pretend they are accidents, but I know he does it deliberately. Then when he comes he will choke me again.

  I spend the day huddled up in the apartment, licking my wounds, and drinking enough tea to make me feel waterlogged and sluggish. Charlotte calls.

  “I need to talk to you,” I say.

  “What about?” she asks warily.

  “Tell you when I see you.”

  She makes a sound of despair. “He’s hurt you again, hasn’t he?”

  “No, no,” I lie. “It’s not about that. It’s about that cake recipe I asked you about.” Cake recipe is our code word for fake passports.

  There is a pause. “Oh, that,” she says super casually. “Of course. I will look for it tonight. When do you want to meet?”

  “In a couple of days.”

  “Damn that stupid wanker. You need a couple of days to recover, don’t you?” she demands furiously.

  “I’ve got to go, babe, but I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” I end the call and wander to the kitchen. A look in the fridge only depresses me. I have next to nothing. Yesterday was food shopping day, but because I met Tyson, I didn’t go to the supermarket.

  There’s enough in my purse for bread, milk, and a few other things, so I bundle up and put on my sunglasses even though it’s well past sunset. Everybody knows what a woman wearing dark glasses at night is trying to hide, but it’s better to have someone shake their head and click their tongue than to let anyone actually see how hideous I look. When I was younger I thought of women who stay with men who abuse them as pathetic. Now I am one of them.

  It is with that shame I walk through the door of the corner shop. Mr. Rama’s wife always comes in the evening to spend a bit of time with her husband so she is also behind the counter. They are a sweet couple who call out to me cheerfully.

  As they bag up my things they talk to me about the weather and are kind enough to pretend not to acknowledge the elephant in the room. Sometimes I fantasize about telling other people. Telling anybody who could help me.

  Yes, he hits me. Hard. Yes, I’m bruised. Frequently. No, I don’t like it. Yes, I’m desperate to leave him, but I can’t. He’ll kill me. Worse, he’ll kill my son. He’ll probably kill my son while I watch, just for spite. That’s what a monster he is, that’s how sick he is. But all of this goes unsaid as I thank them for their help and pick up my bag.

  The moment I turn the corner to walk down the quiet path leading to my apartment block, a tall figure steps in front of me. I’m so skittish and nervous I jump back with a cry of fear, ready to run.

  “Wait, wait! It’s just me. Just me.” Tyson takes my arms and I flinch, wincing with pain. His jaw drops. “Jesus Christ. Sunglasses.”

  “How did you find me?” I gasp.

  His eyes search my face anxiously. “I had a private investigator trace your phone call and I came here immediately and waited for you. I knew you’d have to get out of your apartment complex at some time.”

  I look around, panic stricken. “You have to get out of here. Now.”

  “What’s with the glasses?” he whispers. “It’s fucking dark, Izzy.”

  “I have an eye infection,” I rattle off. One of my many excuses. It usually works. Not this time.

  “I just saw you yesterday and your eyes were fine. Try again.”

  “Please, leave me alone. I have to get back before somebody sees us.” I try to move back, but in a flash he has grasped my hand. He reaches out and takes off the sunglasses. His face goes blank for a moment before his eyes narrow to slits and the area around his mouth goes white.

  “I’ll fucking kill him,” he spits. “So help me God, Izzy, I’ll kill that bastard for what he’s done to you!”

  “You’ll get me killed standing out here talking to me, saying things like this!” I hiss. I can barely think for terror. If Tony were to show up right now … I whip my head around, but the street behind us is virtually empty. Thank God for that.

  “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him with my bare hands, Izzy. I’ll take pleasure in it, I swear,” Tyson snarls.

  “Yes, and I would love to see it,” I blurt out. Suddenly, I feel tired. So damned tired. If only I could unburden this terrible weight on someone else. Just for a moment. My shoulders sag and I exhale.

  “Let me help you, Izzy,” Tyson says softly.

  The temptation to say yes, help me, is so strong I have to bite my tongue.

  “Come on Izzy. You can’t go back to him. I’ll take you somewhere safe right now.”

  “There is nowhere safe you can take me. Why don’t I meet you tomorrow and we can talk then? He is coming to see me tonight.”

  I have never seen any man look the way he did when I said he is coming tonight. It was murderous rage.

  “You know nothing about me if you think I am going to let that sick pervert anywhere near you again.”

  I look at him in a panic. “You don’t understand. I can’t just leave.”

  He looms above me, his hands clenched tight at his sides. “Why not?”

  I think fast. This is getting dangerous. His hotel is not too far from here, and I need to tell him about Christopher, anyway. If anything were to happen to me, he needs to know he has a son. Yesterday taught me how fragile my situation is. I should have told him the truth, the full truth yesterday, but I thought I could keep him from entangling with Tony. Christopher needs to know his father if I die or otherwise disappear …

  When I tell him about Christopher he will understand why I can’t just rattle the wasps’ nest. I need to plan a proper getaway. Maybe he can help with the passports. “All right, let’s go to your hotel and talk?”

  He takes my groceries out of my hand and we walk quickly to the street where he flags a taxi. I look around me fearfully. If someone sees me get into a cab with him, I’m dead meat. Life would’ve been so different if I hadn’t lost my cell in Paris. Then it would have been the way it should’ve been. But there’s no room for that sort of sentimentality right now.

  I shake myself free of that fantasy life of the three of us living as a family. I learned the hard way to stop indulging myself in it, because it is just that. A sweet fantasy.

  I climb into the taxi at the very moment I see Jessica Lambert come down the road. Instantly, I slip down, right down to the floor of the cab. When I look at Tyson, his jaw is clenched tight, and he is staring straight ahead. He gives the address to the driver and the car starts moving, but I don’t come up until we are a few streets away.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Izzy

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GPq6eGCXXP8

  You

  We hurry through the lobby of the hotel. It is unlikely, but I still can’t shake the fear that somebody will see us here together
. As Tony keeps reminding me this is his town. He has eyes everywhere, friends everywhere. There’s just no telling.

  I don’t take off my coat, or the scarf around my neck. Tyson puts my shopping on a table by the window and turns around. He winces when he sees my eye in the full light.

  “I will teach that coward a lesson he will never forget,” he says, his voice low. Somehow, he’s more menacing when he’s quiet.

  “Forget about him,” I say. “There’s something more important we need to talk about. Something you deserve to know. I’ve kept it from you, well, obviously before yesterday, because I didn’t think you wanted anything to do with me, but since yesterday because I didn’t want a big showdown between you and Tony. This is also the real reason why I’m scared to death of Tony. I don’t care very much about myself anymore, but I care very deeply about the people I love.”

  “You said that. Your family.”

  I look deep into his eyes. “Not just my family. My son.”

  His eyes go wide. He looks sick. “You had his son?”

  I shake my head slowly. “No. I had your son.”

  His eyes nearly pop out of his head. He looks like I punched him in the stomach. I’ve been punched there many times. It feels like all the air has left your body all at once and you can’t get a breath in. Like you might die because you can’t breathe. He does breathe, just like I always do. “My son?” he echoes blankly.

  I nod. “Yes. He’s fifteen months old now … and he’s beautiful.”

  “We used a condom.” He’s reeling on his feet, whispering hoarsely.

  I look at him gently. “There was that once you put it on late, remember?”

  He stares at me, white under his deep tan.

  “He’s yours, Tyson. I haven’t slept with anybody but Tony since that night, and I only met him when I was already pregnant with Christopher.”

  “Christopher?” he echoes, his voice full of wonder. “His name is Christopher.”